


Something For the Pain

by thejokeristhethief



Series: So This Is Home [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Awkward Blow Jobs, Bacon, Burns, Cooking, Cooking Naked, First Aid, Frottage, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejokeristhethief/pseuds/thejokeristhethief
Summary: Their relationship is still new and shiny, and Wash has been enjoying the new experiences he's been through recently. After a rare and wonderful sleepover with North and York, Wash wakes to find York's side of the bed empty. Where is his brunette lover? And what is up with all the yelps coming from down the hall? And really, who the hell thinks it's a good idea to cook bacon naked?





	Something For the Pain

Sometimes Wash wonders how he got to this place in his life. Like who knew that one day he would be out grocery shopping and some kid would jump out at him from behind a fort of toilet paper and change his entire life. Months later, he still looks back at his first encounter with Theta and York with reverence. Of course it took another month before anything else happened, but after meeting North during his guest lecture on ancient medieval architecture and engaging the man in a length post-class discussion, consequently forcing York to come in looking for him, things progressed fast. And here he is, tucked under the possessive arm belonging to the taller of his two lovers, warm and content, drifting in the space between wakefulness and sleep. They’ve only done a few sleepovers, worked into their lives between Wash’s early classes and heavy assignments, North’s late nights at the office preparing for presentations and his weeks with Theta, and York’s… well, whatever it is that the brunette does when not working or at home. Security things, Wash supposes. He’s not entirely sure what York’s job actually entails, but both of his lovers ensure him it is entirely safe. Although York did seem evasive when the legality of his business was questioned. He’s still not figured out how to take that one yet.

With a sigh, Wash rolls over, reaching into the empty space that should be occupied by York. The sheets are cold. Cracking one eye open reluctantly, he glances at the clock. 7:35. Groaning, he lets his eyelid slam down, flipping over to nestle back into North’s welcoming warmth. There is no damn way Wash is going to crawl out of bed before 9 on a Saturday. York is on his own.

* * *

A loud yelp, followed by a long string of curses rouses him from the light sleep he managed to fall back into. At first Wash doesn’t entirely comprehend what exactly startled him from the pleasant dream he can barely remember, but when another high-pitched yelp sounds, he springs into action, rolling off the right side of the bed and to his feet moments before North does so on the right. He sprints down the hall towards the sound of York’s pain and distress, North on his heels.

A hiss of pain drifts through the doorway, barely audible over the now discernible popping of grease. Wash comes to an abrupt stop, staring in shock at the ridiculous scene before him. A moment later, North slams into him, naked chest connecting to Wash’s bare back with a echoing slap more appropriate for bedroom activities. One incredibly muscular arm circles his waist, while the other braces them against the door frame in an impressive demonstration of reflexes that should not be possible for someone that just woke up. He’s momentarily distracted by the way North feels pressed up against him, his morning situation a pleasant reminder of last night’s activities. A twitch of interest moves through him before another curse bring his focus back into the kitchen and the sight to behold there.

And what a sight it is. Behind him, North sighs, blonde head dropping onto his shoulder in a sign of what must be extremely uncomfortable defeat, given their height difference. The older man stays there for a moment, collecting himself, before placing a soft kiss to a cluster of freckles near his neck.

“‘m going back to bed.” The words are mumbled into his skin, and Wash feels them more than he hears them. “If you decide to stay up, convince him to put on a shirt or something. And try not to let him burn the house down.”

North’s lips are really distracting, and for a moment Wash is tempted to return to bed with him, even more so when they meet his in a tender kiss, only mildly dampened by morning breath. However, the moment is ruined when another cry of pain leaves the oblivious idiot in the kitchen. Wash groans, stealing another kiss before replying. “Go. Sleep. I’ll come get you when breakfast is ready. Or when we get back from the ER because York thinks cooking bacon naked is a good idea. Whatever happens first.”

North chuckles, a warm sleepy sound that liquefies Wash’s insides. Man he’s falling hard. They share one final, soft kiss before North releases him with a sigh. “Thank you Wash. Don’t take too long. The first aid kit is under the sink in the bathroom. If you have to choose an area to save, make it the most useful. Go south.”

Wash snorts, turning to watch his 6 foot something boyfriend stumble down the hall and back to bed. He takes another moment to lament the fact he isn’t joining the miles of smooth, pale skin under the sheets. But however fun that would be, he has a brunette to save from third degree grease burns. After all, a hurt York is a whiny York, and a whiny York is no fun for anyone. Still, it takes a considerable amount of effort to turn his attention back to the kitchen, even with the pathetic sounds of York reacting to grease burns ringing in his ears.

Despite the ridiculousness of the situation (because really, who cooks bacon naked?), Wash allows himself a moment to appreciate his other lover. While North is all pale, flawless skin, lightly toned abs, and bulging arms, York is tanned, tattooed, scarred, and utterly defined. The subtle flexing of his deltoids and trapezius as the man sways gently to whatever music is playing through his earbuds, while simultaneously attempting to dodge the splatter of grease, is practically mesmerizing. He has an overwhelming desire to touch, a need to run his fingers over each outlined muscle, a desperation to feel the power underneath the acres of bronzed skin. He wants to trace the hard ridges and valleys that make up York’s body, follow the thin, jagged scar that runs from the bottom of his shoulder and wraps around his hip. He even craves the freedom to tease his fingers over the stupidly cliched tribal tramp stamp South managed to somehow talk York into. And the best part is… He absolutely can.

Padding silently across the tile, Wash does just that. His fingers dance along the back of York’s neck, smooth over his shoulders, find that scar he was eyeing from across the room, and the other, less visible one on his left ribs, enjoying the initial jump of surprise before York melts into his touch. The brunette pops his earbuds out, humming in satisfaction as his hands trace over every inch of the territory he was admiring earlier. Placing a kiss to his shoulder, Wash caresses the stupid tattoo reverently before winding his arms around York’s trim waist, pressing into his warmth, feeling the pleased laugh his lover lets out as it vibrates in his chest.

“Morning babe. I hope I didn’t wake you.” York’s warm words are low and intimate, sending a shiver down his spine. “I’m just in the middle of cooking -ah shit, watch the grease- breakfast.”

The jerk to avoid the bacon splatter takes him off guard and he stumbles backwards with a hiss. It’s an unpleasant reminder of why he’s even out of bed in the first place, and a spike of annoyance replaces the pleasant shiver from moments before. He fights down the urge to snap at York and is pleased when his voice comes out normal. “Actually hun, you did wake us up. Both of us. While the whole naked chef thing is a good look for you, cooking bacon uncovered while you’re also uncovered is a little dangerous. And you aren’t reacting as quietly as you think you are.”

“Ah shit.” York’s shoulders slump in despair, a hand coming up to run through his own hair. The action is coupled with a careful shuffle step backwards to avoid more grease. “I’m sorry, Wash. Is North pissed? North’s pissed isn’t he. Dammit.”

The distress is obvious in his tone, and Wash immediately takes pity on his brunette lover. “Hey now. He’s not mad. I sent him back to bed. But we do have to deal with these grease burns before they turn into anything worse, OK? I promised him I’d take care of you. Let’s get you fixed up in the bathroom. The bacon will be fine for a few minutes.”

Wash tugs York back a few more steps before dropping his embrace around his lover’s waist and collecting his hand instead. He only makes it a couple steps before York pulls on their connected hands sharply, spinning him around and into the brunette’s arms. His lips are immediately captured in a soft, almost chaste kiss. It’s something he’d normally appreciate from York, who is usually teeth and tongue and passion. But right now, he wants a real kiss, one full of the fiery desire he’s been craving all morning. Tangling his free fist into York’s hair, Wash drags him down for a better angle, ravishing his lover’s mouth with the hunger that has been building since he woke. York groans, dropping his hand in favour of gripping his hips, dragging him closer. His tongue curls around Wash’s before pushing back, and suddenly it’s York dominating the kiss, licking over his teeth, dragging his tongue against the roof of Wash’s mouth before pulling away with a nip to his bottom lip. They break apart for mere seconds before the brunette is kissing him breathless again, hands sliding over his hips and ass to grip his thighs and lift him effortlessly. Wash giggles into the kiss with delight, wrapping his legs around York’s waist. They stay there, kissing in the middle of the kitchen, until Wash’s fingers run over one of the grease burns York sustained earlier, causing the man to hiss in pain. The noise is like a bucket of cold water, and he pulls away, hand gripping York’s shoulder for balance. “Bathroom. Now. As soon as we get you fixed up we can continue.”

“Aw come on Wash.” York groans, pressing their foreheads together. “It’s not that bad, I swear.”

Wash knows he can’t focus with York’s mouth that close, he doesn’t even try, diving into another fierce kiss instead. He can feel York smirking against his lips, obviously pleased that Wash finds him completely irresistible. Adjusting his grip, the brunette grinds up against him, erection, slick with pre-come, sliding tantalizingly between his cheeks, teasing over his perineum and catching against his rim. Moaning, Wash breaks the kiss, dropping his head to York’s shoulder with a shudder. “Oh god, York. We have to stop. Please. I promised North I’d take care of you.”

York sighs, thrusting against him once more before letting him down. Wash presses a kiss to the small, puckered scar on the top of his shoulder before pulling away. He runs the hand still tangled in York’s hair gently down the back of his head, squeezing his neck fondly before pulling him down for one last kiss. York cups his face, thumb stroking along his cheek, keeping the kiss soft. When it ends, Wash steps back with a brilliant smile, catching York’s hand as it falls from his cheek. He tugs the larger man behind him as he heads for the bathroom and the waiting first aid kit. “Thank you, York.”

* * *

The burn cream is cool on his fingertips as he dabs it over the worst of the burns on York’s chest. Wash can’t resist tweaking his left nipple after applying the strong smelling substance to a particularly nasty burn slightly up and to the right of it. The surprised moan is a pleasant change from the noises of discomfort and pain York has been making over the last 20 minutes, making him twitch with renewed interest. His lover shifts impatiently on the edge of the tub.

“Are you done yet, Wash?” The whine in his voice is almost reminiscent of Theta, and a shudder runs down Wash’s spine. Not a good comparison when they’re both half hard and completely naked. The moment passes quickly, however, when York slides closer, bracketing him between his legs. Wash looks up at him from his position kneeling on the bathroom floor. “Come on, babe. I think I’m good. Having you down there is driving me insane.”

Sliding his hand up York’s right thigh, Wash applies one last dab of burn cream to a reddened patch of skin on his lover’s ribs. He follows the action up with a gentle kiss, murmuring his answer into an unmarred portion of tanned skin. “Fine. The rest of you looks unscathed. Which is something I plan to change.”

“Oh real- mmm.” York’s response is cut off, interrupted by a moan when Wash sucks a mark just above his left hip. Fingers dive into blonde hair, tugging gently when he drags his tongue along the definition of the brunette’s lower abdomen, nipping and sucking at the v of his torso. York reacts to his teasing, bucking his hips in an involuntary motion, forcing him to slide his hands further up those toned thighs and hold him down against the lip of the tub. York’s hand cups the back of his head, attempting to guide him lower. “Oh god. You are such a tease. If -mmm fuck- if you aren’t careful I’m going to -ah- I’m going to -ooh shit, right there, fuck your mouth is amazing.- Goddammit Wash, I swear if you don’t stop playing and give me what I need I will - holy hell what did you just… nghh-”

Wash chuckles, biting the sensitive spot just below York’s right hip a little harder than the soft nip he just placed there. The resulting moan and the string of curses following it are beyond satisfying. York’s hands leave his head, one shooting up to grab a fistful of his own hair and yank sharply, the other scrabbling against the enamel of the tub in an effort to gain more stability.. Pulling away slightly, Wash blows on the wet patch of skin, smirking when York shivers, before continuing his ministrations, working closer to his lover’s dripping erection. A chanced glance upwards reveals the gorgeous column of York’s throat; his lover’s head thrown back in pleasure. Taking advantage of his distraction, he releases his grip on York’s left thigh, wrapping his hand around the base of his lover’s hard cock instead. The motion is immediately followed by his mouth, taking the entire thing in one smooth motion.

“Holy shit!” York’s eyes fly open in surprise, the shock of suddenly being swallowed down causing him to overbalance, falling backwards into the tub. His hips thrust upward with the motion, burying him deeper in Wash’s throat and causing him to choke for the first time in ages. He pulls off with a wet slurp, coughing at the abuse his throat suffered. His eyes water as he peers over at his lover splayed out in the bathtub. York meets his gaze. “Shit. Ouch that hurt. Sorry about that. Are you OK?”

“Yeah.” His voice comes out raspy and York scrambles to his knees, cupping Wash’s face in his hands. Concerned grey eyes search his, no doubt looking for any sign of pain. Wash gives him a watery smile. “I’m OK, I promise. Maybe we should take this elsewhere though. I’d like to avoid anymore injuries.”

York chuckles, allowing Wash to help him out of the bathtub. The brunette steps into his space, pressing against him firmly. Wash draws him into a kiss, tangling his fingers in the short hairs at the base of his neck. York quickly turns the kiss filthy, licking passed his lips, tracing over the ridges on the roof of his mouth, making his knees weak. A moan rumbles out from deep within his chest as he loses himself in his lover. Kissing York is amazing; a different and exciting experience every time. There are times where Wash thinks if he had to choose between sex and kissing York, he’d choose this. And that is saying a lot because sex with his two lovers is phenomenal. But the idea of losing this closeness, this all consuming passion, is beyond despair. The world narrows down to York’s mouth on his. People talk about kisses causing fireworks, but in this case, Wash swears this makeout session is making him hear bells. Although why his subconscious would choose very annoying bells, he’s not entirely sure. It almost sounds like alarm bells, actually.

York jerks away from his with a curse and the haze is broken. Apparently the kiss wasn’t as magical as he’d thought. Because that alarm is real. His eyes widen as York scrambles past him, rushing down the hall, a string of swear words trailing behind him. Wash follows at a more sedate pace, not entirely understanding what is happening. It isn’t until he enters the kitchen and takes in the billowing smoke that he remembers that they left the bacon on the stove.

“Fuck. Oh fuck. Shit, North is going to kill me. Wash see if you can shut that stupid thing off.” York is waving a teatowel over the smoldering frying pan in one hand, the other fumbling open the window. A rush of fresh air enters the kitchen, swirling the smoke into intricate designs. Wash pops the battery out of the smoke detector, efficiently silencing it. He turns around just in time to watch York drop the hot bacon pan into the sink.

“York don-” There is a hiss as water hits the grease, evaporating instantly and causing a small explosion of greasy steam. York yelps, jumping back and narrowly avoiding disaster. Wash’s shoulders slump in relief. “Jesus York, don’t you know how dangerous it is to put water in hot grease?”

“Shit. I forgot.” York pulls on his hair, a sure sign of stress. “I don’t do a lot of cooking. I never really have. North is going to be pissed that I ruined another pan.”

“As long as you’re alright, I really don’t give a shit about the pan.” North’s deep voice rolls through the kitchen, concern coating his words. Striding forward, the older blonde draws York towards him, examining him head to toe. His fingers trace over a few of the more unpleasant burns. A barely audible sigh falls from his lips. “I prefer you whole and unburned. No more cooking naked. There are plenty of other, more enjoyable activities to be done naked. Let’s stick to those instead, OK?”

“Sorry North.” The words are dejected, York looking completely defeated. “I just wanted to do something nice for you and make breakfast. You’ve both been working so hard.”

Their relationship is still new enough that Wash isn’t entirely sure how the rest of this is going to play out, especially when North tenses at York’s last statement. He prepares himself for the possibility that this may turn into an argument, something he does not want to witness or take part in. If he wasn’t currently stark naked, he’d consider attempting an escape. As it is, he’s forced to watch it play out. And for a moment it looks like he might get a full on show. However, after a minute North relaxes, gathering York into a gentle hug.

“You don’t need to do that, love.” North presses a kiss to York’s forehead, and Wash briefly feels like he’s intruding on a private moment, something he shouldn’t be witnessing. And then North releases York, reaching for him instead. “Thank you for taking care of him, Wash. I promise you, things like this don’t happen often. York only cooks occasionally, and he is usually very good at breakfast.”

Wash allows the older of his lovers to pull him in, reveling in the strength of his warm body. He vaguely recognizes the click of the stove turning off as York lets them have their moment. Pushing himself onto his toes, he wraps his arms around North’s neck and draws him down for a soft kiss. He allows himself to enjoy it for a tad longer than is strictly innocent before pulling away. The low moan that he takes with him when he goes causes a spike of arousal for what feels like the thousandth time. “I’ll always take care of you guys. Always.”

“God we are so lucky.” York’s arms snake around his waist as the brunette plasters himself to his back. A kiss lands on his shoulder. Hands slide down his stomach, a slow stroke that has him reacting with an involuntary thrust of his hips. North chuckles, slipping a knee between his legs to offer some friction against his hardening shaft. York trails kisses across his shoulders, rocking his own hard cock between Wash’s cheeks. “I love that you want to take care of us. But it looks like you’re the one that we need to take care of right now.”

The line is cheesy. Incredibly so. Normally it would elicit a laugh and a groan, but Wash is too distracted by the slow drag of skin on skin to fully register the words. North’s hand slips between them to tweak Wash’s nipple, sending a burst of white hot pleasure through him that makes his knees tremble. He can’t help the moan that falls from his lips, something that North takes advantage of, leaning down to steal the second one that follows it when the motion is repeated. He pulls far enough away to gasp out a direction. “Oh god. Bedroom. Bedroom -ah- now.”

North chuckles, obeying his orders and stepping back. Wash whimpers at the immediate loss of warmth, taking an unconscious step forward. The move pulls him from York’s embrace as well, and suddenly he’s cursing the fact that he opened his stupid mouth and demanded that they move. However, the moment passes quickly when North takes his hand, tugging him down the hallway with their brunette lover following closely. Wash pauses just inside the door, releasing North’s hand as his lover gracefully spreads himself across the bed. He takes a minute to reflect on how lucky he is before York grips his hips, lifting him off the floor and practically throwing him onto the bed beside North.

The taller blonde pulls him close, hands exploring the familiar plains of his body. North kisses him breathless as York joins them on the bed. Wash loses himself in the pampering his lovers heap on him, enjoying the caressing fingers and teasing mouths. The two men that he’s been falling in love with in the last few months take him out of his mind with pleasure. By the time they’re done with him, an hour later, he can barely remember his own name. He drifts in a haze of bliss until it fades into a sated sleep.

It isn’t until two hours later that he shoots straight up in alarm, startling both York and North. “York, did you shut the oven off?”

**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap, I finished something! Go easy on me, friends. It's been a long and bumpy road to get this one out and that final scene fought me so hard that I almost abandoned it.


End file.
